Brightest in the Dark
by ShakespearesOtherSister
Summary: Zuko opens his eyes to what's right in front of him. A one-shot companion piece to "Evolution."


Brightest in the Dark

**Do not own. Do not make money. No infringement intended.**

Brightest in the Dark

She was beautiful. The realization hit him so hard he almost fell over, which would have been bad given the current position of her hand on his sleeve.

"You're a really good friend," she was saying, "I should never have wasted all that time being mad at you."

He hoped the tremor in his voice wasn't audible. "It's all right. You had your reasons."

"I know," she said, "But...you did all this for me. And all I ever did for you was make your life more difficult."

Her eyes were soft as she looked at him. Soft and innocent and full of warmth and in that moment, he wanted nothing more than to wrap himself around her. To hold her close. To feel the texture of her hair under his fingertips.

But that wasn't going to happen.

"It's late," he said, "I should go."

Her disappointment was palpable. "Of course," she replied.

"I'll see you in the morning."

He forced his feet towards the hallway. Honorable men, he reminded himself, did not suddenly find themselves wanting to have close physical contact with their once-upon-a-time bitter enemies. They didn't suddenly start thinking of master water benders as _female_, especially not after witnessing the full extent of their talents.

Honorable men were better than that. But it seemed the honorable part of him wasn't fully functional today.

"Katara?" He said.

She turned. "Yes?"

His tongue felt like sand, but he found himself speaking anyway.

"It was worth it. Everything you put me through...it was worth it."

Her eyes widened as he bowed.

And then, he ran.

Her eyes followed him. He could feel them burning into his back, even after he'd turned the corner and gained the sanctuary of his room, where the empty bed stretched huge and cold before him. He stared at it for a moment, then shook himself out of his daze.

There was a blanket sitting nearby on the dressing table. Without bothering to undress, he wrapped it around himself and lay down.

...

He'd barely fallen asleep when he felt the mattress shift.

Instinct had him on his feet in a second.

"I...I'm sorry," the intruder said, "I didn't mean to scare you."

Mystified, he dropped his guard, staring at the small, red-wrapped figure on the bed.

In return, she offered him a half-smile, and tucked her knees into her chest.

"I can't sleep," she told him.

"You don't say," he returned.

Her eyes narrowed and he was once again pinned by her Angry Stare. The one he'd been on the receiving end of for what felt like years.

"Seeing as you're the cause, I would have hoped you'd be more sympathetic."

"Me?"

The Angry Stare deepened, creating frown lines in her forehead.

"You," she said, "Sit down."

"What?"

"Sit down!"

"On...the bed?"

Katara raised an eyebrow. "Is there something wrong with the bed?"

"No... just...you're on it."

"Oh. I'm sorry. Is there some rule that says I cannot be on the Fire Prince's bed?"

Zuko grimaced.

"Katara," he said, "Please think about what you just asked me."

There was a long pause. Then, realization dawned.

"Oh," she stammered, "I didn't mean...um..."

"I figured," he said, "Why don't I stay here while you tell me about why you can't sleep?"

Katara picked at the edge of the red top sheet, the one he'd so painstakingly put on the mattress in her room that was now wrapped around her slender body, and didn't look at him.

"BecauseIkeepthinkingaboutyou," she mumbled.

"What?"

"Because I keep thinking about you," she repeated, clearer this time, "And what you said...about today being worth it."

Zuko felt his cheeks flush. "Oh," he said, "Yeah, um, I did say that, didn't I?"

"Uh huh."

"Hm." He rubbed the back of his neck, wanting to be anywhere but standing next to his bed feeling the heat of Katara's watchful gaze. "Well...um..."

"Did you mean it?"

The vulnerability in her voice brought him out of his selfish discomfort. "What?"

"Did you mean it? Or were you just saying that to get me to leave you alone?"

"No. Yes. I mean, I didn't say it to get you to leave me alone. I'm ok with being alone, but that's not why I said it."

"So you meant it?"

"I um...yes?" He offered her a sheepish smile that faded as he observed her once-again stern countenance.

"Ok...um, no?" he tried.

With an exasperated sigh, Katara stood.

"You know what? This was a stupid idea. I'm sorry I woke you. I should go."

"Wait, what? Katara!"

She moved toward the door, but he was there to stop her.

"Wait, hold on! What do you want me to say?" he begged.

She stared at him for a very long time. Then, she pushed him. Hard.

Zuko landed on the floor with a thud.

"What kind of question is that?" she demanded.

Zuko rubbed his tailbone. "An honest one?" he ventured.

"Well, your honesty sucks!" Katara clenched her fists and glared down at him, posture rigid with indignation. "I came in here because I thought you were trying to tell me something, but evidentially, I was wrong. Evidentially, nothing has changed between us and you're still too busy wallowing in your own misery to pay attention to anyone else! So good night, _Prince_ Zuko."

She turned to leave. Panicked, Zuko did the only thing he could think of to stop her.

He grabbed the edge of the sheet and pulled.

Caught off guard, Katara staggered, arms flailing as she went over backwards. Zuko didn't have time to make it to his feet, but he got to his knees, catching her against his chest as she fell. They both hit the floor and rolled, crashing into the side of the bed, the sheet wound tight around them.

When the proverbial dust settled, his elbow was in her stomach and he found himself with a mouthful of hair.

"Ok," he said, pushing the mass of waves aside, "I think we can agree that that wasn't one of my better ideas."

"You think?" Katara growled. She wrestled an arm free of its silky confines and twisted so she was looking at him. "That hurt."

"I'm sorry."

"Oh, I'm sure."

Zuko sighed and pressed the heel of his hand against his forehead.

"I am," he said, "But I couldn't just let you storm off, so I had to do something. And now that you're down here, maybe you'll listen to me."

"Oh you're going to talk now?"

"Yes," Zuko said through gritted teeth, "I'm going to talk."

Katara struggled to a sitting position and folded her arms. Zuko lay flat on the floor and looked up at the ceiling.

"I'm waiting," Katara pressed.

"I'm working on it," Zuko growled, "Pretty speeches full of heartfelt confessions aren't exactly my specialty, remember?"

"Pretty? Heartfelt?" Katara's face appeared in his line of vision, smirking. "This I _have_ to hear."

"Katara, you're not helping."

"Sorry. I just didn't realize explaining yourself could be turned into such a big deal."

"That's because talking comes easy for you. You're an open book. Even when you're not saying things out loud, your emotions are written all over your face."

"Oh yeah? So what am I feeling now then?"

She looked down at him, trying to appear stoic, but he could see the laughter in her eyes.

"You're thinking that it's awfully fun to tease me and make me uncomfortable," he said, and his suspicions were confirmed when she couldn't suppress a giggle.

"All right, fine. I think it's funny that one of the most fearless people I know gets freaked out over the idea of telling someone what's on his mind. Is that really that bad?"

"You'd be freaked out, too, if you grew up in my family," he mumbled, "You've met Azula. And you know my track record when it comes to expressing myself to my father."

"Yes but I'm not your father. And I'm definitely not Azula."

"Oh trust me, I know."

"So what's the problem?"

Her foot bumped his hip, and when he looked over, he realized she'd scooted closer, and was now pressed against his side. One hand supported her head while the other rested lightly against his forearm.

He wondered if she was aware she was dragging her fingertips back and forth across his bare skin.

"There's no problem," he said, "I'm just...choosing my words."

"Ah. So being around me _has _taught you something about manners!"

"Among other things." He looked back up at the ceiling. "For example, it appears I am about to learn a thing or two about sharing."

"Sharing? You mean your feelings? It's really not that hard..."

"Not that kind of sharing." He took a deep breath. "_Sharing_ sharing. Pre-school stuff."

Her fingertips stopped brushing. She sat up straight.

"What?" she questioned.

Zuko sighed. "Today was worth waiting for for me because I finally felt close to someone. Someone who wasn't my uncle and someone who wasn't going to turn on me the second something better came along. I don't know what it is about you, Katara, but you make me feel...different. Better. And I've had you all to myself for almost a week now, but when the sun rises tomorrow morning, I have to go back to sharing you with four other people." He looked over at her again. "I don't think I like that."

She looked down at him with a mixture of concern and surprise.

"Just because you have to share me doesn't mean we aren't going to be friends," she said, "I'm still going to be around all the time."

"Yeah, but you'll have Aang and Sokka. They'll be there and you won't..." he stopped.

"I won't what?" she asked.

"Nothing," he said, "Never mind." He rolled to his side, facing away from her.

"I won't what?" she asked again, and something about the combination of her voice and her closeness made it impossible for him to refuse her.

"You won't come looking for me any more when you can't sleep," he confessed, "Or when you need assurance, or when you're looking for answers. You'll have the others for that. You won't...it will be different."

"No, it won't," she countered, and he was surprised by her vehemence, "I love Aang and Sokka, but they don't treat me the way you do. Even in my moments of weakness, you still somehow manage to make me feel like I'm your equal. To them, I never seem to be an equal. I'm either Mom or a some sort of damsel in distress."

"Distressed isn't exactly a word I'd choose to describe you."

"I know." She crawled over him and lay down on her side so they were facing each other. "That would be my point."

"You don't really remind me of a mom, either."

"Maybe that's because you actually wash your own socks."

"Yes, well, being on the run taught me a thing or two about taking care of myself. Old habits, I guess."

"Trust me, I'm not complaining." She tucked her hands up under her head.

Zuko observed her for a moment before speaking again.

"You take care of them all the time, don't you?"

Katara nodded. "Haven't you heard Toph when she makes fun of me for it?"

"Who takes care of you?"

Katara's cheeks flushed. She looked away from him. "You mean telling me you are jealous of Sokka and Aang wasn't your way of volunteering?" she asked. Her tone was light, almost teasing, but Zuko felt his pulse stutter.

"I didn't intend it to be," he said.

"I'd be ok with that if it was," she said.

"You...you would?" he stammered.

She nodded. "Everyone needs some support sometimes."

Zuko swallowed past the lump in his throat.

She was doing it again. That strong, innocent, vulnerable thing that made him think about her as more than just Katara. Made him realize that she was a young woman, full of hopes and dreams, and that she ignited inside him something deep and unfamiliar. Something that made his heart beat just a little bit faster.

"W...well, I'll probably be pretty bad at it," he said, "I tend to say the wrong things...a lot. As you know. And sometimes I'm not very patient and..."

"Zuko." Her finger pressed against his lips. "Stop. That doesn't matter."

"But..."

"Seriously."

Zuko could feel his body trembling beneath her touch. Katara didn't move her hand. He forced himself to relax.

"I don't want you to talk to me," she said, "I just want you _there_. When I need you. Like you were today. Every time I looked over my shoulder, you were there. It was...nice."

She smiled and his insides felt like jook. Helpless, he watched as she slid forward, tucking herself into the space between his chest and his chin. His arms, of their own accord, slipped around her shoulders, and his heart leapt when she didn't push him away. He pulled her a little bit closer, hugging her tight. Katara sighed, her warm breath tickling the bare skin at the base of his throat.

Then, her fingertips skated over his ribs, hands curling into the fabric of his tunic.

And Zuko felt his resolve crumble to dust.

Without pausing to consider the consequences, he cupped her cheek, tilting her face to his. Katara's lips parted, as if she were going to ask him what he was doing, but before she could speak, he kissed her.

For a long, agonizing moment, neither of them moved. Then, Zuko felt her hands flatten against his chest.

Anticipating rejection, he jerked back and skittered away, putting a good span of empty floor space between them.

"I'm sorry," he said, "That was really stupid of me. I'm so sorry."

Katara said nothing, just blinked at him in the dark.

"You should go back to your room," he went on, "This was not a good idea."

"You kissed me," she said, ignoring him.

"Definitely going," Zuko said, getting to his feet, "I'll help you up. And then you can go because by now you know the way, so..."

"You kissed me," she said again, "I...where did you learn to kiss like that?"

"...down the hall around the corner to the left near the...what?"

"Where did you learn to kiss like that?"

"Learn? Me?"

"Is there someone else in the room I'm not aware of?"

"No."

"Well then I must be talking to you." Katara stood, smoothing down the folds of her nightdress. "So 'fess up, lover boy. Do you plant one on every girl you meet after throwing them on the floor? Or is that just natural talent?"

Zuko didn't think the moment could have gotten any more awkward, but the hot, prickly sensation that seemed to encompass his entire body told him otherwise.

"No," he mumbled.

"No what?" Katara put her hands on her hips.

"No, neither. I...hold on. How many boys have _you_ kissed that you would know the difference?"

Katara shifted uncomfortably. "None of your business," she said, "And I asked you first."

"And I answered."

"Well, it's still none of your business." She picked up her sheet. "Now, you were throwing me out?"

Zuko threw up his hands. "I wasn't throwing you out! I was just trying to prevent you from hitting me. Or freezing me to the wall. Or...whatever other horrible thing you could think of to do to me. I think I just made it fairly obvious that I don't _really_ want you to go anywhere."

"Well, I'm not going to hit you. Or freeze you to the wall. And I'm too tired to think of anything truly horrible."

"Well then maybe you shouldn't leave. Maybe you should just stay!"

"Maybe I will!"

"Fine!"

"Fine!"

They glared at each other, and Zuko was reminded of the inordinately high number of duels he'd engaged in with her. And how he'd lost as many, if not more, of those duels than he'd won.

He backed down.

"I can go get my sleeping bag from Appa's saddle so we don't have to make this any more awkward," he said, "If you really are planning to stay, that is."

Katara wrapped her arms across her chest.

"Don't," she said, "Whatever just happened it wasn't...I'm not angry. And I'm not going to make you sleep on the floor in your own room."

"But we can't both..." He paused. Katara raised her eyes.

Zuko sighed. "I suppose it doesn't really matter, does it?"

"Not really. I mean, I'm tired, your tired...we kissed..."

Zuko went over and sat on the edge of the bed. "I won't do it again," he said.

Katara looked away. Zuko's stomach quivered just a little.

"But I'll be here," he said, "I'll...um...consider this practice for the next time something serious happens. And you need me to just _be._"

Katara looked back, and offered him a faint smile. "I'd like that," she said.

Zuko returned her smile and held out his hand. She took it. He pulled her toward him and lay back, pulling her down so that her head rested on his shoulder. She felt soft against him. Feminine, yet strong. Strange, yet familiar. He stroked her hair, watching her eyelids flutter closed.

...

When dawn broke the following morning, only the sun was there to witness the young man and the young woman still sound asleep on the bed, and the tangle of red satin resting quietly on the floor by their feet.


End file.
